[1] Then Job spoke again:
[2] “I have heard all this before. What miserable comforters you are!
[3] Won’t you ever stop blowing hot air? What makes you keep on talking?
[4] I could say the same things if you were in my place. I could spout off criticism and shake my head at you.
[5] But if it were me, I would encourage you. I would try to take away your grief.
[6] Instead, I suffer if I defend myself, and I suffer no less if I refuse to speak.
[7] “O God, you have ground me down and devastated my family.
[8] As if to prove I have sinned, you’ve reduced me to skin and bones. My gaunt flesh testifies against me.
[9] God hates me and angrily tears me apart. He snaps his teeth at me and pierces me with his eyes.
[10] People jeer and laugh at me. They slap my cheek in contempt. A mob gathers against me.
[11] God has handed me over to sinners. He has tossed me into the hands of the wicked.
[12] “I was living quietly until he shattered me. He took me by the neck and broke me in pieces. Then he set me up as his target,
[13] and now his archers surround me. His arrows pierce me without mercy. The ground is wet with my blood.
[14] Again and again he smashes against me, charging at me like a warrior.
[15] I wear burlap to show my grief. My pride lies in the dust.
[16] My eyes are red with weeping; dark shadows circle my eyes.
[17] Yet I have done no wrong, and my prayer is pure.
[18] “O earth, do not conceal my blood. Let it cry out on my behalf.
[19] Even now my witness is in heaven. My advocate is there on high.
[20] My friends scorn me, but I pour out my tears to God.
[21] I need someone to mediate between God and me, as a person mediates between friends.
[22] For soon I must go down that road from which I will never return.